Ashita No Ashiya
by Master of Shiawase Punch
Summary: Maou's most faithful general is dependable beyond compare. As one who hardly ever fails in his duties while serving his lord, when Alsiel begins to slack and show signs of procrastination, the Dark Lord finds the situation alarming, and the reason even more so. Rated T for now, may change to M periodically for detailed violence/gore.
1. Demon Lord is Forced to Accept a Favor!

**Hi, there, unsuspecting reader!**

**This is not my first fanfic, but it IS my first Hataraku Maou-sama story. I was hoping to write it sooner and have the first Hataraku story on this site but….kiwimaou beat me to it! xD I've had two ideas flying through my head while watching the show…and I think I just might combine them into this one story.**

**Here are some basic facts, before you choose to read:  
**This story will feature most of the characters at least once, as appropriate. I will be adding in an original character for the sake of this story. Please don't let this turn you off to reading further. I hate bragging, but I'm not bad at creating original characters that don't merely clone a character already in the series/story, and I don't create boring characters with no feelings/backstory/motives. I take care not to create Mary-Sues, and try to add characters whose personalities haven't been yet used in a series, where there's a hole, so to speak...

There is no yaoi or yuri. No homosexual coupling whatsoever.

I will try to stick to the main story line as expressed in the anime thus far. I may revise as I receive more information via reading the light novel/watching further episodes (if there's a 2nd season). However, I'm adding in my own "arc", I suppose you could call it. A sort of side story. I'm not changing anything terribly, so it sticks to the main premise.

I welcome well-written reviews that offer constructive criticism. If you don't like something, please evaluate if it's fact based and correctable on my part (such as word usage/grammar), or if it's merely a subjective feeling you have about my writing. I don't like sarcastic, negative reviews with no merit. They don't help me, and they don't make YOU look good either.

**Okay, and I'm also working on a HUGE Professor Layton story, so I may be delayed in updating, but I'll try my best! I thank you for your patience.**

**And that's it! Enjoy and review if you feel inclined!**

**Kelsey/Ken**

* * *

**CHAPTER 1: The Demon Lord is Forced to Accept a Favor!**

"If only we could get—"

"No."

"But it's so—"

"Don't even _think_ about it. Actually, don't even _think_ about _thinking_ about it."

Lucifer stared blankly at the ever-changing pixels of a flat-screen television, the colors and moving images behind a pane of glass, mere inches from his face. His breath fogged up the store front's window and his sweaty palms and finger pads pawed at it like a sad puppy. "But I already thought about it…"

"_NEVER AGAIN_," hissed Alsiel, his right arm struggling with two full grocery bags, left arm attempting to pull the one in his charge away from the expensive technology. "Don't you ever think about it ever again."

He could barely stand the sight of the price tag. Anything with more than three place-values made him squirm, and more than _four_ was nightmare-inducing. It went without saying that the TV was out of the question.

Irritated, but not surprised, the younger demon exhaled audibly, his long bangs rising and falling with his dramatic breathing. "This is why I don't leave the apartment."

"W-W-W-W-What?! _You_ are giving the reasons?!" Alsiel spluttered, unsure of whether he wanted to laugh or berate the lazy brat for blatantly showing such arrogance. "You don't leave the apartment because you can't be trusted, and you are to stay under my supervision at all times—per Maou-sama's orders—and per _my_ agreement—with said orders. It is _not _because you just don't like putting up with my strict discipline!"

He didn't realize his companion was too occupied with hand gestures and gargoyle faces—unashamed mocking at its best—to bother with taking his words to heart. The poor general continued onward down the sidewalk, pulling Lucifer along like a disobedient dog.

"I have legs you know!" he whined, muttering curses as he plodded alongside his so-called superior.

"You have ears too, but you don't use those very well either. Now take a bag and pull your weight!"

By the time they returned to their apartment, it was 5 in the evening. Kicking his shoes off, Lucifer clumsily plowed through the door frame and tossed the oddly shaped grocery bag onto the small table, the only real piece of furniture they had at their disposal. Without hesitation (literally—he left the grocery bag to spill its contents all over the place), he bee-lined to the laptop and lifted the lid. The screen's glow bled into his skin, making him look paler than usual. He sat, and was content.

Thoroughly disgusted, Alsiel scoffed, but decided it would be a waste of time to wage a verbal war and punish him. The glint that would typically accompany such a desire, such a thought—to deliver painful retribution—didn't even appear in his eye. Himself stunned, he wondered if he was becoming too human for his liking…

'_Have to choose my battles, I suppose_…' he internally grumbled, justifying his response, and he proceeded with picking up the fallen cans that rolled onto the tatami mats.

It was about time for Maou's return from his evening shift at MgRonald's, and both demons expected his arrival, even subconsciously, so it wasn't strange that there were sounds outside the door. Shoes scraped against the rough mat, and then…silence. What _was_ strange was the knock at the door.

"Hmm?" Lucifer looked over his shoulder. Another knock, and then another, each more annoyed than the last. "Doesn't he have a key?"

Gasping, Alsiel threw down the potholders he was holding and raced to the door, his face red from staring into a pot of boiling noodles.

"It can only mean that Maou-sama has been accosted and has been forced to relinquish the key to his _own domain_… Such vile deeds can only be the work of—!" He wrenched open the door, wholly expecting his lord in the typical red polo with 'MgRonald' emblazoned on the breast, when it was only… "—the Hero…" Eyes narrowed, he looked down on Emilia as if she were an unwelcome bug that had found its way into the apartment, into the oven, and had cooked itself into an otherwise perfect dinner. In his mind, she wasn't very far from that. "You aren't Maou-sama."

"Indeed I'm _not_, and I'm very thankful for that," she huffed, arms crossed in front of her chest. She still was wearing office attire, including her high heeled shoes. Alsiel eyed them and sneered.

"I was expecting my lord. I suppose with the lack of your typical, loud and obnoxious 'falling down the stairs,' I wasn't expecting to find you outside my door…"

"I can successfully scale the stairs on most occasions, you know! And I wouldn't speak with that crass tone to the person who just saved '_your lord_' from a very distressing situation at the crosswalk!"

Taking in a sharp breath, the color from Alsiel's face drained. "What happened to Maou-sama?!"

"Ask him yourself," the girl grunted, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the stair case.

Maou had ascended, his form limp and slouched. "Ugh, such a stressful day, I hope dinner is ready…"

"M-M-Maou-sama! What is the meaning of this?" the general exclaimed, his tone close to shrieking. "I'm so sorry, I'll never leave your side again, the _nerve_ of—"

"Ashiya, it's fine, it's fine. I'm fine," Maou said, waving him off with a weak grin. "Just some strange people at the corner grocery, handing out flyers. And then they tried to get me to buy something, and…well, I didn't know how to make them satisfied with what I had already—"

"_WHAT DID YOU BUY_?"

In an instant, Alsiel's concerned expression turned into barely-bridled rage, and as he tried to drill the unfortunate demon king on his (forced) purchases, Emilia snuck into the apartment.

"Geez, you can just _thank me_, you know, and be done with it!" she shouted. Both turned to face her—a break in the back and forth argument—as she smiled craftily. "Perhaps give me dinner as thanks, that would be sufficient. Yes, thank you! Start with that, and allow me dinner."

"'Thanks' for what?!" Alsiel called back, not believing what he was hearing. Thanking her was something he would _not _do willingly. "What could you have possibly done—"

"She bought the item for me…" the demon lord reluctantly uttered, hoping the words would disappear into the air before anyone heard them. But Alsiel heard, and he about choked on the reality of it.

"_We aren't supposed to be accepting favors from _her!" he hissed. "What were you thinking?!"

The light tinkling of chopsticks against glass made them look back into the apartment again, and Emilia and Lucifer had already began dining on the prepared meal, chewing away happily on chunks of vegetables and soft slippery noodles. Maou felt himself start to drool, and he stood up straight before pulling off his shoes.

"Later, Alsiel. Your food smells great, and I'm starving."

Maou cheerfully relayed the events of the day while messily slurping from his bowl. An unhappy customer made pleasant with a free coffee; a happy customer made _un_pleasant with a spilled coffee; Chiho crying because she was the cause: the stories continued despite Alsiel's covert anger, visible only by his unmoving face. His eyes were cemented, a constant, glare boring into Emilia's grimacing face. He hated being in her debt, and the fact that his own lord had caused it made the general feel at odds with himself. He was perfectly fine serving until death, but Maou sometimes wasn't the most assertive of demons, and that made for frustrating work.

The meal concluded, Lucifer returned to his post at the computer, and Maou struggled with words for a moment, but finally managed a thank you.

"And stop following me after work!" he spat at Emi, a smug smile plastered across her face.

"Then who will save you from those mean girls at the corner? Just tell people _no_ when they try to trick you into another purchase." She walked to the door and stepped outside. "I'm heading home."

"Good riddance…" Maou disappeared behind the bathroom door and closed it with a click.

The whole situation still didn't sit well with Alsiel, and he followed the Hero outside.

"What did you buy?" She looked up from her shoe, confused. Sighing, he frowned. "Is it such a difficult question? What were you forced to buy?"

"Ask Maou."

"He's not complying."

Clenching her fists, she sucked her teeth and breathed in sharply. "It was a coupon book, if you must know. They are trying to get people to come in to the grocery on the corner, so they're advertising their specials and giving discounts on select items."

"The store with the outrageous prices…" the general muttered quietly, more to himself than to her. He'd avoided the place after his first mishap: buying a pound of pork for the same price as two and a half pounds at the grocery down the street.

"Well, _first_ it was _one_ coupon book. Then it became _two_ coupon books. You can thank your smooth talking _lord_ for that." She dug into one of her vest pockets and pulled one out. "Maou has the other. I was going to keep this one, but you're probably in need of it more than I am."

"Huh?" Emilia tossed it casually to him. He fumbled with the tiny rectangular book as he caught it. His fingers flipped slowly through the pages, and he looked intently at each one, his increasingly joyful face caged by his long blonde hair. The little collection of coupons resembled a pad of paper more than an actual _book, _but the pictures of the discounted items were just as exciting as a picture book. "But—"

"Now you can get a few more decent ingredients, and you have no excuse for feeding me any more of your slop!"

By the time he understood her words as one long insult, she was already halfway down the stair case. And before he had a proper retort, Emilia the Hero cried out, and fell down the last half of the metal stairs.

* * *

**END.**

**Ergh. Lame first chapter, maybe I'll rewrite. Oh well, just a little intro.**


	2. The Hero Realizes Her Situation!

**Here's chapter 2! I won't say much. You can read to find out what happens. :)**

**Punching idiots worldwide,**

**Kelsey/Ken**

* * *

**Chapter 2: The Hero Realizes Her Situation (and Admits Defeat?)!**

Emi Yusa subconsciously counted how many times she tapped an agitated finger against the keyboard. She grimaced: 78 taps before the person on the other end of the line stopped grumbling curses towards her.

"Ma'am, may I remind you that we are _not_ a health insurance company…" She groaned as the supposed 'customer' continued their rant, and Emi tried to recall how many times she was required (by contract) to try and calm a caller before initiating Project Hang-Up. It didn't matter; she'd already decided she was done with the matter.

And with a click, the other line went silent.

Silence. It was beautiful when it was complete, thorough.

Emilia the Hero ended her work day as any other day, and clocked out before collecting her lunch tote, handbag, and jacket. Ready to depart to the solitude of her apartment, she grated her teeth together when her coworker raced up alongside of her.

'_And I was almost out the door…_'

"Emi! Let's go out for donuts!" Rika chirped, her sing-song tone only irritating the poor red head. "I heard they are having specials if you buy by the dozen."

"I'm not really a donut fan, to tell you the truth, Rika," Emi said apologetically, offering a weary smile. "And it's been a long day, I should really just—"

"Oh, you _always_ have an excuse, and yet, what do you _really_ do when you leave work? Do you have some secret life?" Giggling, she followed Emi towards the exit when Rika stopped, her face set into a '_Eureka!_' sort of expression. "I got it! You're into _enjo kousai_!" (Author Note: _Enjo kousai_ is a 'practice' also known as 'compensated dating', where a woman is paid by (usually) wealthy men who ask for attention, and, often times, sexual favors).

"_What?!_"

"You know, compensated dating!"

"I _know_ what it is, Rika, but how you think I'm into that…" She shook her head. "You've lost it."

The other girl laughed. "I'm only joking, but really, Emi, don't you have any social life? Any love interests?"

And she gave her usual answer: "_None_."

After shaking Rika from her daily trek home, Emilia was finally alone. The street she was on branched into two paths: one leading towards home, the other towards the train. The train would easily take her to her favorite spot, right by the MgRonald's that she would stake out often, hoping to see or hear something that would tip her off about _their_ plans...

The bookstore across the street gave a clear view of the fast-food establishment, and she could loiter with a coffee and a book until her nemesis—the Dark Lord himself—finished his shift. The time she spent loitering changed often—as Maou's shift did—and she wondered if the bookstore owner found her more problematic or odd. However, it was no more than a fleeting thought, and she continued her espionage with complete confidence.

Today, she decided to change things up and ordered a hot cider instead of coffee. She grabbed a new paperback best-seller without even looking at the title, and nonchalantly plopped herself and her belongings into a booth seat at the window. Her eyes pretended to read. Each sip she took meant a brief glance towards the popular MgRonald's across the way, and each glance meant one step closer to success.

It never had occurred to her that she was close to hopping the fine line of being dedicated and, in contrast—

"Obsessed."

Emi choked on a scalding mouthful of her beverage as a bored voice droned from a person who'd just appeared at her table. Exactly _when_ the person had been so bold as to march right up to her booth, she didn't know, but it didn't matter. Her throat was now burnt, and the brand new book's pages were speckled with moist and warped dots of cider.

"Indeed, you _are_ obsessed."

She looked up, eyes laced with tears, the pain in her throat still a fresh reminder on how to not drink hot liquid. "Al…Alsiel, I will _kill_ you…"

"Perhaps I've caught you at a bad time?"

"Of course! You just strode up to my table, frightened me, and I choked on a hot drink because of you! Don't you have any couth?"

"Absolutely, but it doesn't apply to you," the blonde general stated bluntly, his arms crossed indignantly across his lean chest. His mouth was a thin line, uncaring and annoyed. "For what purpose are you doing this, coming into this shop daily and spying on my Lord?"

"Daily?" Emilia chortled, now amused. Her lips curled into a subtle grin. "How would you know that unless you have been spying on _me_?"

Alsiel's poise faltered, and he took a half step back. Face flushed pink, he cleared his throat before stuttering and tripping over his words. He sounded like he forgot how to speak Japanese and was reverting back to his native tongue. Or…he was just flustered, without a comeback.

"I…Well, it's not because of _my_ spying, it's—it's… That's below me! Spying is the work of the Hero! I acquire my information from my enemies directly, torturing the words from them, _strangling it_ from their throats!" he managed, tensely holding his hands out in front of him, as if carrying an invisible burden. "How dare you imply my actions are even _remotely_ _close_ to equaling yours!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Alsiel…"

"Don't use my real name, you slovenly, hapless wench!" he spat venomously. She might have called him something dirty, with the way he snarled.

"_Ashiya_," the girl shot at him, rolling her eyes. "I'll be direct with you then, although I'm sure you could easily answer your own question. I'm keeping tabs on Maou. And on you as well. But, I keep my post here, because let's face it: the Devil King's daily life is a lot more interesting than that of the housewife."

It wasn't the first time he'd been mocked, his natural talents insulted, but he'd rather take it from Lucifer than this impudent, mouthy girl. His eyes as slits, Alsiel gave her the nastiest glare he could muster, hoping and wishing it would be enough to cause her green eyes to melt and bleed. He felt his body begin to shake, and was certain his face was beet-red.

"I'll have you know that washing the undergarments of Maou-sama and Urushihara is a task only the bravest of housewives—I mean!—_keepers of the stronghold_ can handle! And my work is of utmost importance to my Lord, otherwise, who would provide nourishment and daily care for him? Who would wash, dry, fold, and press his garments for him? _Who would_ _replace the bathroom tissue?!_" He paused, sneering at her and scoffing. He was beyond correcting her, and instead only needed to hide his hurt behind sarcasm and proud statements. "I'm not explaining my position to you. I know my place, and my importance. Regardless of what you think, I'm here to defend Maou-sama and demand that you stay out of his affairs immediately." He made to turn and leave, ready to retreat from her stabbing words; he wouldn't admit the slight heartache it caused him.

'_Such a brat…_'

Emi had paused to let him have his piece of the conversation, but was surprised at the length of Alsiel's response. She shook the words off. "As if I could do such a thing. It's my _job_ to bring all of you down, and punish you for your misdeeds. I will never back down, and I certainly won't do it because you told me to!

"Know that it disgusts me, that the Devil—cruelty incarnate—has such loyal and obedient supporters!"

As the svelte general turned back to face her, the Hero felt her own words echo in her mind. Everything seemed to move through a haze, a screen of smoke that made everything slow and lethargic. _Loyal and obedient supporters_…_ Loyal and obedient supporters_…_ Loyal and obedient supporters_…

She suddenly felt the pressing walls of loneliness close in on her. Her mind tried to push away the lingering sense of isolation she was now feeling, but she was drowning from her own sentiment. An island, surrounded by silent waves. Why did she just now realize what had been since she arrived?

It was frightening at first, as she had crashed into the earth's surface, her feet touching foreign soil for the first time. Turning to find Olba, only to find…nobody. And then learning of his deceit, his treachery. Albertio and Emeralda weren't in constant contact and even when they were, they felt so far away, so out of reach. Rika was merely a coworker, and knew nothing of her agenda and true goals; she only assisted with making each work day tolerable. And Chiho…well, she was only a high school student, and while somewhat innocent, she was naïve and immature, two things that irritated the wiser and more adult Emilia (in addition to the younger girl's bust, which also proved to be an irritation).

Other than weak acquaintances, Emi Yusa was on her own. And Maou Sadao, self-professed MgRonald's marketing genius, had already garnered a fan-base in addition to his obsessively loyal general.

'_Dis…Disgusting…_'

"Did you hear me?"

She shook her head, breaking from her reverie. "W-What?"

"I _said_," Alsiel snapped, apparently frustrated that he had to repeat himself, "that I somewhat pity you, as you are completely on your own. Even the Dark Lord has his most loyal comrades at his side. It seems your journey is a lonely one." He growled then, angry at something. "But that's your own problem. Don't create any more for us."

He walked away, leaving Emi to her own thoughts, a ruined book, and a lukewarm beverage.

* * *

It didn't matter what the school or work day provided. Only _one_ thing blared in the mind of Chiho Sasaki: Maou Sadao.

After removing her MgRonald uniform and returning to her own clothing, the high school girl bounced over to a clearly worn out Maou, who had just emerged from the employee break room with a deep sigh. He slouched against the door, his hand fast on the knob. It had been a rough week, with dinner rushes becoming increasingly loud and stressful as the days went by. If someone wasn't demanding a refund, they were using expired coupons, or asking for additional ketchup packets. It was all a scheme, a financial drain, and the Dark Lord wouldn't have it happen during _his _shift. This made him more aggravated, which meant the occasional acidic personality change.

But for now…the day was done. Chiho decided that if she heard the words "Black Pepper" again that she would throw the pepper shaker at the next customer that requested the damnable menu side.

"Maou-san, you did a great job today! I'm sure Ms. Kisaki will promote you soon!" she giggled, handing him a polygonal package wrapped in a tightly knotted cloth. He took it from her. The material was cool to the touch from sitting in the break room refrigerator. "Here's dinner for you! It's Friday, so I made you something special!"

"Hmm." Maou gave it a quick look, and grinned meekly. "I'm sure Ashiya is already finished with dinner, though… Friday is pork night, so… It's not every day I actually get to have meat."

Unwilling to believe that such a thing could have been said, Chiho pulled her lips inward and puffed out her cheeks. It was the most indignant look she could produce. "Y-You had better eat that fresh! It's not going to be any good otherwise! You can't wait until tomorrow!"

"But Ashiya always makes such a great Friday night dinner."

"Hmm, is that right?"

"And I'm not completely fond of pickles and tomatoes on rice, and you seem to enjoy doing that," Maou continued, completely blind to the girl's increasingly irritated expression. Her voice remained bored and flat.

"Hmmmm, is that right…?"

"Plus, you could always just make me one for lunch, and I could eat that, right? On Monday?"

"Hmm, yes….sure…." She snatched the package from him and stomped off, right out the front doors of the fast food restaurant. "See you Monday…I guess!" she shouted, just before marching beyond the scope of the wide store front windows.

Maou only shrugged, the feelings of such trivialities lost to him. "Maybe she is tired of making me bento so often. I'll have to tell Alsiel to buy me more lunch foods…"

As sure as an Ente Isla victory, Maou came home to the smells of fried pork and stir fried vegetables. He could smell it while walking up the stairs, and couldn't wait to kick off his shoes and walk into the warm and wafting embrace of a carefully prepared meal.

"Just in time, Maou-sama!" called Alsiel, flipping the wok's contents. He'd invested in a large wok and a proper stock pot when he discovered a second-hand store a few blocks away. Not one to pass up on a frugal investment, the practical general grabbed both items and showed off his prize every night with a properly cooked meal, even if it was only stir-fried rice. "We're having something a bit different tonight!"

Maou thought the laptop groaned something inaudible, but realized it was only Lucifer, moping and writhing on the floor just in front of the glowing screen. "It's rotten. Don't eat it."

"Insolent brat," Alsiel growled deeply, seething through barred teeth. "It's fine, my Lord. I found cheap spices at the store and thought we'd give them a try. It's something foreign…"

"Smells great, and I'm starving, so who cares? Lucifer, you can eat melon again if you want to complain," Maou shot towards the complaining demon on the floor.

"That's not melon!" he shouted. "It's rotten cucumbers with honey!"

"Close enough… Let's dig in!"

The three demons ate happily for a while, surprised that they had enough for seconds ("Thank you, coupon book!" Alsiel laughed, thinking fondly of his useful and lovely money savers). They chatted briefly about what the day had brought each of them, and who had done more work than the others. After a short silence, they found themselves feeling awkward, and they realized it was due to an empty side of the table.

"It seems," Lucifer started, "that we haven't had company in a while."

Maou nodded, grabbing for his glass of water. He drained it and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, causing Alsiel to scoff and toss a disposable napkin to him. "It's been all week, I believe. No Emi, no Chiho. I can't say I'm not happy about it, but it makes me wonder…."

It had been a little over a week since Alsiel demanded that Emi stay out of their business, and that she stop spying on Maou from across the street. He hadn't considered her presence in their apartment as spying, but now that her visitations ceased, he supposed that was what she was doing all along.

'_Insufferable half-breed waste!_' he shouted internally, and he chewed a piece of pork fat in satisfaction.

"I told her to stop causing us problems and to cut out the spying," he stated matter of factly. "I guess she actually listened. At least…that's what she _wants_ us to believe!"

"I'm not putting it past the Hero to be scheming at all times, Alsiel, so yes, don't let your guard down. We need to still be on alert," Maou warned gently. "However, maybe she's finally wising up, even slightly, to her situation."

The youngest demon took his dishes to the sink and laughed softly. It wasn't often that he showed enjoyment in their stories, but this one seemed to strike a chord. "Yes, that she's all alone. And on the losing side."

"I reminded her, don't worry," the blonde general added, wondering if it was that portion of the conversation that had made Emi think over her lot in the human world and retreat a bit. "Her comrades are not in this dimension, and they aren't even aware of her daily interactions with us. I'm sure she's beginning to realize how futile her cause is…"

The room fell silent, and the meal ended. As Alsiel was cleaning up, the Devil received a text message from a persistent Chiho, and decided he'd treat her to an ice cream to keep her content for the weekend.

"She's furious that I didn't accept her lunch," he explained to his general, who was wiping off his hands with the dish towel. "I suppose this will keep her quiet… I really don't understand things like this."

"Do you wish for me to accompany you, Maou-sama?"

"No, it should be alright. You can keep an eye on Lucifer in my absence..." He jabbed his finger toward the hunched figure in front of the computer. Lucifer only grunted in response. "I'll be back in a little bit."

And so, the counting started.

It had only been half an hour, and Alsiel sat at the table nervously looking at the clock. The second hand was broken, but the minutes still ticked by. He tapped the surface, slowly at first, like a waltz, and eventually began slapping out a quick rhythm.

"That's it, I'm going to make sure Maou-sama is okay," he declared, rising from his sitting position, but not before crumbling to the floor. "Aaaaaow…stupid pins and needles feeling!"

Lucifer cocked his head to get a sideways look. "Hmm, my legs fall asleep a lot too. It'll pass."

"Only because you're lazy and in a permanent sitting position. I really need to limit your time on that computer. Now, I'm heading to the shopping center. The ice cream parlor is there. I don't like leaving you behind, but…" He cringed at the thought of the NEET purchasing something unsavory, or worse…expensive. "If you do anything to worsen _any_ aspect of this household, I'll personally see to it that you sit in the lowest level of hell for eternity."

"And…what's so wrong with that?" the other laughed, bewildered by the comment. "We're demons, you know. Hell is like—"

"_Without a laptop_."

"OKAY, I PROMISE," Lucifer cried out, clutching the laptop miserably. "Heaven take you if you ever do that…"

Alsiel knew the path to the shopping district like the back of his hand (both demonic and human). He'd mastered navigating the area within a day, and figuring out the best buying strategy was almost as easy. In his mind was a grocery list and the week's specials, and he would scope out which specials could produce the most nutritious meals, all while using the most coupons. The books Emi had bought for them proved to be one of the best assets to his food planning, but he would never tell her that.

Meandering around groups of shoppers, he walked into the mall, a large building with five floors and a food court in the underground level. He leaped onto the escalator and went down into the crowd of hungry customers. It was only the matter of a few minutes before he found his lord and his young coworker chatting over a large, round bowl containing white, brown, and pink mounds of freshly scooped ice cream. Maou was doing more of the eating while Chiho talked nervously, her face awash in crimson. Her round cheeks resembled the strawberry ice cream.

The general tried to find an inconspicuous hideout, but was having trouble concealing himself behind the lean pillars that connected floor to ceiling. He stretched out his neck to get a better view.

"Why are the crowds so thick?" he whispered, his bangs falling into his eyes.

"Why is your _head_ so thick?"

After a dramatic gasp, Alsiel spun around to face the only person who could find such a comment so readily available.

"What are you doing here?!" he hissed, his eyes as fierce as his low growl. "I thought I told you to stop—"

"And I thought I told you that I'm not _listening_ to you?" she retorted, sarcasm dripping from her words. "And you call _me_ obsessed with spying. You spy on your own side more than I spy on the enemy!"

"You…you…you can't say that," he trailed off, defeated. "I'm doing it to make sure Maou-sama stays safe. There's no telling what evil lurks around."

She almost choked. "E…Evil?! _You_ are evil! You're the Devil's general! How could you make such—"

Face hardened, he held up a defiant hand. "Silence. No more. I'm not done spying. I mean, protecting."

It was a strange sight. Completely floored, Emi looked down upon the half bent, half hidden right hand man of the Devil himself. He would let out occasional gasps and whimpers if his view was blocked, and he'd mutter things to himself as if he were trying to memorize and recite a passage.

"Come on, Maou-sama, you don't have to do this all day… Just come home where it's safe…"

"This is the Devil's general? You look like a peeping Tom in a public bathhouse. Why don't you actually go _in_ there and just grab a nearby table? Like, the one with the partition? Right _by_ them?" the girl said chidingly. "For Maou's most trusted general, you're not very strategic. I'm ashamed to call you a worthy adversary."

He turned slowly to look at her, his embarrassment apparent even through his confident mask. "I was _going_ to do that, but _you_ showed up."

She shrugged. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to go and do your work for you. You owe me dinner. Again."

"N-No, wait!"

She'd already entered the parlor and took the seat she'd mentioned, Alsiel tip-toeing as he followed.

"It's an ice cream parlor," Emi sniggered. "Not a ballet studio."

"I was going more for 'library mode', not 'ballet'." He glared at her bitterly from across the table, wishing her away, but he didn't dare start a quarrel now. "Why are you still here anyway? Don't you have Hero-y things to go do?"

She flagged down a waitress and asked for a lemonade. "Hmm? What was that?"

"What's your purpose for being here?"

"Well, I…" She didn't actually expect to go this far. Something in her just…_acted_. Without reason, without a direct _purpose_. "No reason except for spying."

"Then leave. I can monitor my lord on my own, thank you."

"You'd still be at the pillar out _there_ if I didn't suggest coming here." She sucked on her teeth until her drink came, and she took several slow sips, watching Alsiel peer through the frosted glass partition. He couldn't see Maou very well, and now cursed his poor choice.

"It'd be better than looking through this glass! I'd might as well go home. There isn't much going on anyway."

Sighing, he leaned forward, his elbows resting heavily on the table. Emi had never realized it before, but the general was quite tall, even while sitting. She shuddered, picturing him in his demonic form, brooding and calculating, not a concern for the wellbeing of anyone around him except for his one superior. Yes, _calculating_ was exactly the word for it, and she had to wonder if he was more cunning than the Devil himself. After all, there was a reason he was Maou's most outstanding general…

For a moment, Emi studied him. Something had been bothering her since he'd approached her at the bookstore.

"You're a being from hell. How can you show such emotions?" It was more of a statement than a question. Alsiel cocked his head and looked at her strangely, as if she'd just spoken another language.

"What do you mean?"

"How much you care for him. Maou. It's unfailing. It's almost…perfect." At that, he laughed louder than he meant to, and he slapped his hands over his mouth instantly to muffle the sound. Peering over at the other two through the partition, he made sure he wasn't heard.

"_Perfect_?" he snickered. "What else could it be? He needs me to be his eyes and ears at all times. At attention, on guard." He glanced wistfully over at the table, where Maou had just finished the bowl and was rubbing his temples. After a high pitched squeal, Chiho stammered as she asked if he was experiencing a brain freeze. "I'm getting sloppy though. This place is rather calm. I haven't had much come up, in terms of feeling threatened." His eyes looked off into space, then narrowed before resting on her. "Until _you_ came along. Scheming.

"And I shouldn't be talking to you. This could be a part of your plan!" he said in a harsh whisper.

"Plan?! What plan?"

"Distracting me with your impertinent questions. And now, I'm off!"

Without warning, the great Alsiel stood up and attempted to stifle a yell after his thigh crashed into the underside of the table. Emi only gawked at him, afraid to catch any attention from Maou, and without any further comments let him half-hobble, half-hide to the exit.

A few days passed as usual without any notable activity. Maou brought home his pay check, and Alsiel budgeted and spent it as needed. _Need_ was his favorite word, as opposed to Lucifer's: _want_.

"Fried chicken. Please. Only once…" he wailed, his dry whine as feeble as he was. He pulled on a patch of skin on his arm, attempting to show how emaciated he was. "I'm losing weight. I'll be as feminine as Ashiya if we don't get something with substance."

"F…Feminine…" Alsiel whispered, to whomever wanted to listen. Another crack. Directed toward him. From behind errant locks of hair, he eyed down a now cowering Lucifer, who immediately sought refuge at the computer.

"I didn't say it. My hunger did. I'm dying."

As the blonde clenched his fists at his sides and opened his mouth, Maou held up a hand and laughed. "Enough. There's no need for this. Ashiya, I'll bring home take out tonight—" to which Lucifer grinned stupidly with childish delight, "—but Urushihara can eat leftovers—" To which the young demon yelled out, "But, but—!"

"I don't often tell you," the Dark Lord started, turning toward his general and completely ignoring the shouting Lucifer, "but it's nice having someone to trust in while we live in this land. You're free tonight from cooking."

Bowing slightly, Alsiel smiled, pride welling up in him like in a praised puppy. "It's only the smallest of tasks that you thank me for. I have yet to provide any decent method of regaining our powers. That is my chief duty."

Maou chuckled. "Well, I'll be sure to thank you three fold whenever that time comes! For now," he looked down at his stomach, "I'm starving."

An hour later dinner commenced, and they were half-way into their modest meal when the Devil began coughing loudly, a cracking noise coming from his throat as he hacked into his arm. All eyes were on him, and Alsiel stopped mid-bite, on alert. After recovering, Maou began to laugh, a booming, heavy laugh that shook the room.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Alsiel, something terribly funny happened the other day, and I just now remembered. It's been so busy…"

Alsiel raised one eyebrow, unsure of his lord's sudden change in demeanor. "Yes?"

"We had a customer come in to MgRonald. A girl. Looked about high school aged. Reminded me of Chiho, without the…well, without the _adornments_? Is that the word? And without the pigtails. And perhaps without the round face too…"

"Is it just safe to say she didn't look like Chiho?" Lucifer grumbled, annoyed that Maou had dramatically made a fuss over such a mundane happening. He got up with his dishes.

"Hmm, yes. That's acceptable. Anyway, she asked the strangest thing." Following Lucifer's cue, he went to pick up his dishes, which were quickly snatched up by Alsiel.

"I'll take care of it, Maou-sama. What was her question?"

"Well, I don't quite understand these humans like you seem to, which makes me wonder _how_ you've caught on. Do you study them?"

"As time permits, my lord…" He didn't like admitting to knowing so much about the lowly inhabitants of this world. It wasn't something he was proud of, but knowing the area and the creatures was part and parcel off his duty to Lord Maou. The library was his favorite place other than the grocery. He'd read countless books on human nature, geography, history, religion… It was safe to say he'd poured through half of the books on the shelves, using his ability to consume insanely large amounts of information and commit it to memory. "Anyway, what did she ask?"

"It was about _you_. Asked who you were, said that she'd seen you talking with me occasionally at MgRonald's."

At that moment, Alsiel tried to think of all the people he'd seen in the work place of Maou, but there weren't any that he'd seen consistently, nobody he'd seen more than once. He didn't pay particular attention to anyone except Chiho, and that was only because she acted like a magnet towards Maou and threw herself into their lives unabashedly.

"Who would… Why?"

"Well, it appears she has a friend that is _interested_ in you. At least, that's how she expressed it." The Devil shrugged. "I guess you're interesting?"

"As _if_," Lucifer whispered, yet loud enough for all to hear.

But Alsiel only groaned. His stomach sank while his heart jumped. He supposed that was the human part of him, reacting to news that someone minutely found him attractive in some way. It was similar to pride, but he didn't like it. He personally wanted to throw up, and his stomach now churned uncomfortably. "That means more than the basic definition of 'interest', Maou-sama… Stop laughing, Lucifer, or I'll show you hell on earth! Here! Now! Right now!"

"I read an English word the other day that females might use to describe you: 'heart-throb'," the young demon cackled. "Maybe we should go shop for a suit for you, and I could go get—"

"You are getting _NOTHING_!" He lunged at Lucifer, but felt the energy drain through his body, starting in his head, and leaving through his feet. This event was proving to be something he didn't know how to handle. Chiho expressing her feelings to Maou was something he could observe and break down as a bystander—scientifically and without biased feeling—but now it was happening to _him_?

'_What is _wrong_ with these humans?!_'

"Alsiel, Lucifer," Maou broke in, his face dark with the gravity of the situation. Hearing his real name, Alsiel knew he meant business. "Stop. Alsiel, you've been nothing but a loyal and dedicated general to me. However, I don't find this situation to be the slightest bit funny. We need to approach this delicately, but quickly. I can't have this girl bothering me at work."

'_Is…that all you care about, Maou-sama_…?' Alsiel thought to himself, sighing. '_I don't want some rotten human following me around…_'

"She's approached me twice this week. Her friend needs to be addressed and brainwashed to keep her from pursuing this further. We can't afford another Chiho. And I need you to be without distractions." He stood, his eyes boring into his general's like two hot coals. "I'm giving this as a command. I need this job to reach a higher level in this world that otherwise couldn't be attained, if not for my career. I want this human's feelings to be forced to subside, and I want her to forget any of it happened. All corruptions start with a feeling, a desire. We know this better than any, and I won't tolerate it within my own army, no matter how small! Do you understand?"

"M-More than any, Maou-sama," he stammered, surprised by the sudden change. "I will address her directly."

"Good. Just what I expected to hear from my best general." He shot a look at Lucifer. "And I don't want you interfering with this. Keep to your laptop, and keep out of Alsiel's handling of this situation."

With a snort and a wave, Lucifer sat in front of his laptop, his throne. "I want nothing to do with it anyway. Have fun, _Alsiel_."

The way he said his name made the general more depressed. "So, how do I find this person?"

"I'm sure when I'm at work tomorrow, she'll come in. If not, we'll wait until she does. I'm sure she'd be glad to go on a fake date with you, so it's no problem setting that up. You can handle the rest from there."

"_Date?!_" he shrieked, his spine seizing up. "I'm not going on a—"

"Not literally, Alsiel! You'll arrive, and you'll dispatch her distracting woman powers posthaste! No questions, no talk! That's how it will be done. I'll give you the time and place once I arrange it."

Little more was said that evening, and as they drifted off to sleep on the warm floor, Lucifer rustling beside the closed laptop, Maou starting to snore softly, only Alsiel stared at the ceiling, unable to calm his nerves.

'_Out of all of the tasks and orders I've been given, had placed before me, this is the most frightening…and it's not even _real!' he thought in the darkness. It was strange, he felt, that he could charge headlong into a battle, plunge his hand into someone's chest, pop their lungs; dismember limbs; give the order to burn an entire village and watch, listen to skin blister and pop like oil in a pan; all without a second thought or turn of stomach.

But a simple human was _interested_, and he cowered, even if it was going to end as soon as it started.

'_Humans are really despicable creatures…_'

It was two days later when Maou came home smelling of fry grease, and he confirmed the order Alsiel had been dreading.

"Tomorrow. Noon. Meet this person for coffee on her lunch break. You must be prompt or you'll miss your chance. The time window is slim, and we can't afford to let this pass." Maou's face was stern, but Alsiel could sense a bit of humor behind the words.

He swallowed. "Yes, Maou-sama. It will be done."

At Lucifer's suggestion, Alsiel cleaned up a bit better than usual, casting off his trademark apron and donning a sharper looking shirt that he'd picked up from the same store he bought the stock pot and wok. He'd burnt a hole in his black one, the battle scar of a misbehaving stir-fry, and he couldn't go in public looking sloppy. He looked forlornly at his apron, hanging sadly on a hook next to the door.

"Good bye, little apron…"

"Are you doing your job, or are you dying?" Lucifer called from his typical spot. "You're acting like this is something you won't come back from, like it's difficult."

'_It is…But…_'

"Anything in the world, I'll do it for Maou-sama!" he bellowed, scaring Lucifer enough to accidentally topple the computer before the door slammed shut.

It was muggy, and the humidity was already treating Alsiel's hair like a sponge. It felt thicker than usual, and his skin felt sweaty. Cicadas cried their constant song, reaching a crescendo when he would walk past a tree full of them, and then dying away as he walked on his path. The paper he held onto had the directions written: _Drunken Donuts, next to the shopping center. Take train to first stop, walk north for 2 blocks. Noon._

"Drunken Donuts…" Alsiel grumbled. "What a stupid name. It will never catch on."

The train ride was miserable, the crowd crushing him from all sides. He stood above them all, holding onto the leather strap so he wouldn't fall. All of the people's black haired heads swayed with the train's momentum, and it started to make him feel sick, when finally they stopped. He exited with the flow, and followed the rest of his directions.

"There it is."

The sign: a bright pink and neon orange sign with bold bubbly letters. A sandwich board advertisement announcing the weekly special stood beside the door, which opened and closed five times since he found the store front. It was packed, and the lunch rush was formidable. Alsiel hoped that was what MgRonald's looked like about now.

As he grabbed the door handle, he prepared his speech and let people go ahead of him to buy time, to perfect his strategy. It was then that he realized he'd already made an error.

"Oh, right, she's supposed to wait outside… Damn it all, I can't let this fail."

'_Stay focused…_'

He retreated and took a few steps to remove himself from the heavy traffic near the door. Women, men, even children walked in, came out, one after the other. Each time the door would open the smell of dark, musky coffee diffused into the air, a tinge of sweetness near the end of each breath. Must be the donuts, Alsiel thought.

For a minute, he stood and watched a large digital clock mounted outside the bank across the street. It turned from 11:59 to 12:00.

"Noon." He didn't even know who he was looking for. His eyes scanned the area for anyone he might recognize, anyone that might look out of place as they waited around for somebody, some nervous girl trying to find him.

Wasn't this girl the least bit cautious? He thought people had more fear, more sense than to just seek someone out that they didn't even know.

'_I could be the nastiest, debauched pervert in all of Japan, and she would be taking a huge risk coming out here to see me. Although that's not true. In the slightest,_' he told himself. Truth be told, he didn't know how anyone found humans attractive, and then recalled a recent battle with Lucifer over whether he was asexual or not ("I've just never thought about it!" Alsiel barked, prepared to throw a hot pan of oil at the back of Lucifer's head).

"Regardless!" he tried to justify, "This isn't about romance! It is a task for the good of our cause, and nothing more. And why isn't this frustrating human showing up…?"

There were footsteps coming from behind him, but there had been dozens of shoes scuffing concrete during the ebb and flow of customers so it didn't clue him in to anyone approaching. This set of footfalls, however, stopped short of the door.

"Oh, you actually showed up. Sorry I'm late."

His ears felt that they'd heard the voice before, but he was so startled, he didn't have time to process it. His first failure to notice the fine print, witness the details. Instantly, Alsiel changed expressions and smiled kindly as he turned.

'_This must be her…_'

"Ah, you must be—" He froze, face plastered with a half-hearted grin. His heart sank as he breathed in sharply and his eyes grew to twice their natural size.

"_Em…ilia Justina?!_"

* * *

**END. Don't let the ending fool you! :) Review please.**


	3. The General Engages in Mental Warfare!

**Sorry for the wait, guys. I've been super busy (in case you didn't read my update).**

**This chapter didn't come out the way I wanted….it's not as intense as an 'episode' could be, but….it'll have to do!**

**Don't forget to review! I have a bunch of people following/favoriting, but no review…Let me know how to improve.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Devil's General Engages in Mental Warfare!**

"_And I shouldn't be talking to you. This could be a part of your plan!" Alsiel whispered harshly._

"_Plan?! What plan?" she'd stammered, somewhat taken aback._

"_Distracting me with your impertinent questions. And now, I'm off!"_

After smashing his leg into the table and hobbling out of the ice cream parlor, Alsiel left Emi Yusa alone. She looked over at Maou and Chiho, waiting for them to acknowledge Alsiel's folly, but the Devil only gazed off into space as the high school girl blabbed about something inane.

Her lemonade was gone, and she sighed over it. Why she'd come here, why she followed the white-haired general and his quarry, she didn't know. As she thought about it more and more, she became more annoyed and unsure.

Returning home was somber. The cicadas buzzed noisily in the bushes as she entered her building, and she could still hear them even from within her apartment. The humid air clung to her clothes, her skin, her eyes; she rubbed them with her knuckles, hissing as a migraine snuck behind her forehead and dug deeper into her skull. Defeated, she threw herself onto the humble couch, lay with her back against the seat cushions, and closed her eyelids.

For a few moments, she thought about how rottenly lucky Maou was. Two roommates, one of whom was a sickenly loyal comrade. An _admirer—_of all things—who followed him through anything (although Chiho wasn't exactly the brightest of bulbs). Why'd he have such luxuries, being who he was?!

"Especially that disgusting general. _Ashiya_, he tells me to call him. Tch," she spat caustically, staring at the black behind her eyelids. "I'll call him _Alsiel_ if I choose to! And I'm all alone, so he _pities_ me, he says! As if I need his pity! What's a demon's pity worth anyway…"

'…_why am I still thinking about this, after so many days? That's all old news, why should I care, let it get under my skin? Oh, I _hate _that stupid, arrogant, goody-two-shoes general! He's distracting and evil and—_'

Then…her eyes shot open, and a feverish smirk crawled across her lips as she looked at the ceiling.

It only took mere seconds—a few synapses of the brain nerves—for those words to strike a match, light a fire, birth a conflagration of a plan.

"Distractions," she said softly. "A plan based on _distractions_," she said again, more sultrily and with passion. If she were to go through with such a thing, she had might as well start playing the part. "I think I've got it.

"Let's just see how _loyal_ our little general can be…"

* * *

"_Em…ilia Justina?!_"

Alsiel's brain froze. The name coming out of his mouth didn't make sense. The _person_ in front of him didn't make sense. More confusingly, the reason that person was even _here_ didn't make sense! She obviously was here for the same reason he was: to meet for donuts and—

'_Wait, no! I'm not here for donuts!_' he admonished himself inwardly. His human system wasn't responding to the pace of his thoughts. He should have already finished the deed: hypnosis, mind wipe, successful dispatch of distracting woman powers. '_No,_' he thought in horror, _'No, no, no no no. Is this what Maou meant by 'distracting woman powers'?! I'm being distracted! I can't function! Soon I'll be a mindless slave, driven by hormonal surges and the failed human condition! Oh Satan, I…I think I_'_m dying…_'

All this happened in a matter of seconds, and he merely remained still as stone as he gawked at her in frightened surprise. Emi frowned at him with mild distaste.

"Yes, that's my name. You don't have to shout it like that." Clearing her throat, she pointed to the café. "Well, you must have gotten the message, so should we go in?"

He followed her with his eyes first, then with his legs, as if it was in the plan all along to actually go in. But inside, he was dumbfounded.

'_What am I doing?! I'm failing! I'm actually failing!_' he mentally cried, his mind fighting like a mouse struggling in a trap. '_How could she do this to me? How _dare _she do this to me! I'll kill her! I'll tear her apart! I'll dye that ugly hair of hers with the sanguine hue of the freshest, warmest blood her body can offer! And I won't care! I'll do it right here in this slothful establishment of grease pigs and amply proportioned salary men!_'

He glared at her gray-vested back as she marched right up to a lucky opening at the counter and ordered one of the sinful, sugary O's and an S-size coffee. Then, she turned to look at him.

"Would you like something?" He just stared with half-closed eyes and a repulsively droopy pout. "Hmm, well, make that two donut and coffee sets, please," she amended her order.

'_I didn't want any of that waist-bulging toxic waste, you pushy little wench!_' came the interior monologue once more. '_My time window is closing! Closing right on my neck like a guillotine! I need to finish the task, or else Maou-sama will_—'

"Let's sit in a booth near the back," she said loudly above the din, holding a tray with donuts and steaming white cups. "It doesn't seem to be crowded there."

Before he knew it, he was sitting across from her, a pink-frosted donut and tiny coffee in front of him. The sweet glistened and mocked him, whispering teasingly, '_YOU LOST, AND NOW YOU'LL BE TEMPTED TO EAT ME._'

"I refuse to partake in such disgusting treats unbefitting of my rank," he scoffed under his breath, eyes throwing daggers at the Hero.

Although catching the jist, Emi pretended she hadn't heard him. "What was that?" she asked, picking up her own donut and setting it to her lips.

"N-Nothing… I just," he trailed off, suppressing the urge to say something even more derogatory. His mind was still reeling from the shock.

After she swallowed a large bite of the fried dough, she took a swig of coffee, somehow avoiding the burn. "I asked what you wanted, but you didn't say anything. Don't blame me if you're upset."

Alsiel, right-hand man of the most devious creature known to the universe, felt more disarmed by a half-human warrior and her donut than he'd ever felt during violent battles. He'd once had his own _limb_—his primary _arm_—hewn off and lobbed across a field, forcing him to carry on despite the pain and the streams of blood flowing from badly hacked veins, and yet he found no problem with killing the enemy, relocating his arm, and setting it back with a bit of magic. Now, he glanced from girl to coffee steam, trying to find a moment to regain his composure, rid her mind of this meeting, and perhaps just end this all permanently by dragging her off to some dismal and dank alleyway...

'_It's actually perfect. If I get her now, we'll be rid of the nuisance forever! Oh, how she's played into my hands… What a stupid, mindless—'_

"You know," she said with a growl, unknowingly interrupting his unfurling plans, "I thought you had a little more couth than just sitting there and staring at something that was bought for you. You _eat_ donuts. You _drink_ coffee. And…you're supposed to talk when you're with someone."

"Well, I…I'm trying to recover," he mumbled, tripping over his words. '_No! Don't clue her in to your disgust!_' "I just…"

What did she really expect him to think, expect him to say? Sworn enemies meeting over donuts: did she honestly find nothing odd about it? _He_ knew how she felt about them: the very demons that had razed her village to the ground, murdered its inhabitants, violently destroyed her father… So why did she all of a sudden act like _she __didn't know_ all of that? From what Maou had said, she was _interested_ in him, and that only meant one thing…

'_She's forgiving everything, just like that?!_'

He picked up the donut and squeezed it firmly, then let it bounce back to its original shape. He did this a few times, watching the sticky sugar slick up his fingertips. He pursed his lips together and grunted.

"Aren't you going to eat it? Your coffee's getting cold, and I have to get back to work soon." With a discerning gaze, she glowered at him, her former self showing through; the silence and one-sided conversation had gone on long enough. "So," she forced, "what did you do this morning? Prepare lunch for Maou? Plan next week's dinners?"

"_NO!_" he bellowed, easily overwhelming all of the noise being made in the restaurant. A few people sitting around them glanced over with perturbed grimaces, but quickly returned their attention back to their food. He jumped from his seat, dropping the donut back onto the tissue paper. "This isn't going to happen this way!"

"What are you going on about?" Emi asked, her face reddening while trying to keep their business as private as possible. "What '_way_'?"

"You're the Hero. You're the _e-ne-my,_" he annunciated, the staccato syllables sharpened by his growing anger."You aren't supposed to be inquiring about me through Maou-sama, bothering him at his post, and you _definitely_ shouldn't be trying to _date_ me!" He dug his fingers into his scalp, the glazed digits tugging on a few unfortunate blonde strands; he looked as if he could scream, his eyes manic with confusion. "This is madness…"

"Would you stop it? You're going to get us thrown out. Just because I'm 'The Hero' doesn't mean that I don't have human wants and needs," she tried reasoning, her face getting hot; the words sounded foreign, even to her own ears. Her lips were thin, taut as a clothesline with aggravation.

"_No_," he repeated. "No, we're not giving in to that just because we've been forced to take on these _disgusting_ forms. We're going to hate each other until our next battle, and then one of us is going to kill the other. That's it! There's no other reason to ever see, think about, or _want_ to be with one another! I've had enough of this nonsense!"

"Alsiel, just calm down and listen—"

"_Don't call me 'Alsiel'!_" he said hysterically.

"Fine. _Ashiya_."

"Don't call me anything! Just…just! You just shut up and leave me alone!"

He flailed bodily as he scrambled to get away from the booth; the table; Emi and the donuts. Several people were pushed out of the way as he ran, spilling coffee as he clambered through to the exit.

Emi didn't expect things to go smoothly; she wasn't even sure if he'd show. But the reaction at the end was more than telling about how difficult her mission would be. More importantly, it deflated her confidence, and she felt a strange sensation of nausea. It reminded her of the feeling she'd get when she felt inadequate, if she were to receive an insult and take it to heart.

'_Thick, dense, brainless windbag… How could he reject me so quickly?! This is _not _how I imagined any of this turning out!_'

Finally outside, Alsiel took several bounds in the direction of the intersection. His mind swam with a whirlpool of emotions, and his lungs expanded and deflated between sharp stabs of pain. The mission failed, he was being stalked by his enemy who now had a romantic intent towards him, and he felt so…

_Energized._

His fingers flexed, and a few ultraviolet sparks—hardly noticeable, but _sparks _nonetheless_—_trailed down from the center of his forearm and buried themselves into his wrist like electric roots. He thought he would have felt drained after such an ordeal, but after analyzing his energy level, he surprisingly felt completely charged. The possibility of decimating the entire area with a few flicks of the wrist…it felt possible, if he would simply will it. Powerful magic built in his biceps, his chest, his thighs; it traveled to all reaches of his limbs, the static crackling beneath his skin.

'_Why am I filled with this energy? It's as if I'd stumbled across a goldmine of anger and frustrations, the crushing of hopes, the sadness of failures…_' He looked back, into the donut shop. '_Are people in there really so upset with their lives?_' He thought of all the women looking in the bathroom mirror after a few donuts, muttering about how their blouses now made them look fat, hating themselves for lack of self-control; the men likewise ballooning, but not caring much. Perhaps they were distraught over their jobs and broke the monotony with junk food… Regardless, something was pouring into him, converting itself into raw power, and he hadn't felt it for a long while.

He didn't have enough time to recognize the rose-haired head as it approached him, nor did he see the well-aimed hand sail through the air. A skin-on-skin smack sounded, and left him reeling.

"What is your problem?!" came the familiar voice of Emilia the Hero, posed to strike again. "I buy you a snack, you reject it, then you ignore me, freak out, and _scream_ at me! What's wrong with you?!"

"I don't want to deal with this mental trauma!" he began, holding his hands up to ward her off and avoid another blow. "We're going back to being good, old fashioned enemies! I'm not going to tolerate such a relationship! You dumb girl, do you think Maou-sama would accept this?!"

"You don't even have the _right_ to care for Maou!" she shouted, garnering the attention of a few bored street-shoppers. They locked in on the situation, muttering their opinions and taking a discreet vote on who broke up with whom. "You can't even treat a _woman_ with respect! Not that Maou ranks very high on the list of people deserving respect anyway!"

As soon as Maou's reputation was put on the chopping block, Alsiel flashed a fierce stare at Emi. She didn't catch it right away, as she was still spouting off insults about the general himself (all of which he let roll off like rain on glass), but as soon as he stood at full height, ready to defend his lord's name, the girl stepped back. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"If a woman stood before me, perhaps I'd respect her," came the deep snarl, Alsiel's power augmenting exponentially, even as he spoke. He used his native language, the drawling words rolling off his tongue like poisoned honey.

Emi couldn't explain the gouging feeling in her gut, nor the wound seared into her pride, but she stiffened at his comment. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't even _worried_. But something inside hurt. Her hands balled into tight fists, knuckles white with anger, and she felt something warm pool at the corners of her eyes as she stared at Alsiel's forehead, temporarily unable to look him in the eye. '_Are those…tears?!_' she said internally, unbelieving. She was supposed to be distracting _him,_ not letting _herself_ be distracted!

She tried not to let him hear her sniff away the hot feeling in the bridge of her nose. "And if a worthy _enemy_ stood before me, perhaps I wouldn't have such a muddled view of who my _true_ adversaries are!" she retorted with all the strength she had left. Her words wavered, but she collected herself quickly. _This was battle_, a battle that required mental tactics; she couldn't let herself appear fragile. So, she resorted to what she knew would draw the most blood: stab his pride, and _stab it well._ "You're useless: as an enemy _or_ a love interest! Who'd want you at their side anyway!"

"W-What?!"

"You heard me! Why'd you come here anyway?! Think you'd get a free '_ride_'? An opportunity to exercise your lustful, evil fantasies and make them reality? _Hentai demon!_"

Maou would have punished him for such a thing, but Alsiel shrieked and contorted his face like a gargoyle's, completely revolted. "_How dare you?!_ I will not sully myself with the female waste of this world!" He wanted to obsessively scrub his brain free of the thought, but his skill was in physical cleansing, not mind purification.

'_I'll have to mind wipe _myself _if this will ever end_!'

The girl laughed heartily, throwing her head back. "Yes, guard that virginity, guard it well, Alsiel…"

"Yes, I will guard it with the same tenacity as I guard my lord, Maou—_hey_! Don't joke about such things!"

"Nevermind…this is a total waste of my time," she grumbled, officially trounced. "Don't ask for any more favors. And tell your _lord_ that as well."

"I never wanted your _favors_ in the first place!"

"Good! See if I care!"

"Fine!"

"_Fine!_"

She turned and stomped off, her red locks rippling behind her. Scoffing, he looked around, an amassed crowd staring back at him. He tried shrugging, then grimacing stupidly until they moved on, but no one moved, save one of the onlookers who had already brought over a mediocre security guard during the feud. As the overweight man in uniform approached, Alsiel used a dose of magic and directed the focus of all onlookers and passersby towards entering the donut shop, killing their curiosity in him. Smirking triumphantly, he was finally left to his own devices. It was the most quiet it had been since before he entered the café.

'_I just don't understand what that was all about…_" he thought, walking towards the intersection._ 'She appeared perturbed at first, then murderous— which she may have very well used to her advantage. But, all the while…_' He looked at his hand, where little sprouts of magical embers still flickered, yet were slowly subsiding. '_I was gaining power at an immeasurable rate. It's as if—no, could it be?'_

He cut his own thinking off, hitting a mental wall with the force of a freight train. Looking at his hands again, flexing some magic from his fingers, he gaped in disbelief.

"I've…I've done it. I've found the perfect way to harness energy to enable our magic! I finally did it." His lips opened in a huge smile, and he laughed airily, imagining the return to their true stronghold, presenting his lord to the miserable conquered peoples just as he would in times past. "I can't believe it…the amount of anger, _disappointment_ coming from her! It was so perfect. It was complete, raw, unadulterated anger! Hatred! Sadness! _Aha_!"

He made his way towards the train, thinking of how perfect this scenario had been.

'_All that time that I was siphoning off that energy, it was _her_,_' he thought (somewhat begrudgingly, as he wasn't keen on looking to an adversary for a handout). As he mulled it over, however, the idea became increasingly indisputable._ 'She's the key to this. All I need to do is frustrate her like I did today, and she'll slowly give me what I need. In the form of magic, I can harness all her unbridled fury. It's like my own private stock pile! It'll be a delicate game, but…This is brilliant. So brilliant_.'

He decided to cancel his initial plans to return home and took a different train to MgRonald's, eager to share the news. The trip was spent chuckling to himself and grinning like a fool, swaying with the momentum of the train like a drunken idiot. Departing from the platform, he bolted down gray sidewalks through the hazy heat and was about to step into the sensor of the automatic doors, prepared to announce his discovery, when—he stopped short of the entrance.

His legs reversed; he glanced inside at the busy lunch rush, showing no signs of tapering off, or even slowing in the slightest. His lord took orders by the pair, rushing between two registers. Chiho scooped fries, slammed disheveled sandwiches against wrappers and folded them up with sloppy accuracy; it looked nothing like the marketing ads plastered around the restaurant.

Alsiel left the scene as it was. He was sure Maou didn't see him through the glass.

'_I don't think he would approve of such a thing_,' the general admitted to himself. '_Using a sworn enemy in such a fashion… Am _I _justified in doing such a thing…_?' The thought had just now occurred to him, he had been so elated. Only now was he feeling guilty of something, and he hadn't even done anything!

'_But_,' he reasoned, '_my position affords me such responsibility;_ _I'm _allowed_ to make this decision. Isn't that my job, our purpose? Can't we afford to milk such an opportunity, regardless of how its executed?_

_'He…doesn't have to know_,' he concluded, affirming his decision. It felt odd, somehow defiling his record by resorting to underhanded methods. But he was a demon just as much as Maou was; did he really have to abide by a set of rules and adhere to decorum?

Smiling at his lord's good work (yet cringing at the filthy uniform), Alsiel turned on his heels and returned to the humble apartment.

* * *

**END.**

**Don't forget to review! :)**


	4. Devil's Right Hand Waves the White Flag!

**Argh, this chapter changes the tone a bit. I'm developing the back-and-forth that's going to be going on between Emi and Alsiel. It may feel like they're conceding and being OOC, but who's fooling who? Maybe YOU are fooled!**

**Who knows.**

**Anyway, review please. If anything seems amiss, it's because I missed it when I edited. Please inform me and I'll fix it!**

**Destroying the Heart of the Cards,**

**Kelsey**

* * *

**Chapter 4: The Devil's Right Hand Waves The White Flag (Or Does It?)!**

"Emi, I know you're in there." Silence. He knocked again. "You haven't shown up at the Dark Lord's base for a week, your work day is done, and you have no friends. So open up."

Still…silence.

Alsiel had waited all afternoon for the work day to end so he could go and check up on his magic reserve. He was was happy when Lucifer received a text from Chiho's cell, stating that Maou would be working late; he wouldn't need an excuse now. He'd already gotten permission to go spy on their enemy, get the scoop on her whereabouts, but with Maou being at work, he felt more at ease to execute his _real_ agenda.

But now, his progress was hampered as he stared absentmindedly at the door of the Hero's apartment. Still closed. Still silent. He placed his ear to the entrance and heard nothing.

'_How am I supposed to harness any power if she's unwilling to talk?_' he fumed. He'd already used up what he had garnered, successfully punishing Lucifer for his snarky talk ("How…how'd you do that?!" Lucifer had whined, clutching his stomach as he ran to the bathroom with instant diarrhea) and using a little here and there to test his strength in abandoned parking lots and dilapidated buildings in the outskirts of town. He wasn't going to let himself get rusty, so he had to be prepared. But once he surprised himself and went a bit too far as he brought down an entire factory, having to mind wipe a small apartment complex before retreating to his own. Although the Devil's general, he was afraid of revealing his true nature to anyone in this world, and the fear (embarrassingly) gripped him for a few days after that incident.

So he made up his mind, steeled his resolve, and made the excuse of '_spying on the enemy_' to get the clearance to seek out Yusa Emi in order to replenish his power. Only, his plan was in shambles if he couldn't locate the girl.

'_I know you're in there!_'

"Emi, please, I….I'm sorry?" he said, cringing at the sour taste the word left in his mouth. "You're in there, I know it!"

"No I'm not!"

Alsiel rolled his eyes. It was a start, but it was annoying how stupidly she'd revealed herself. "Well, you're talking through the door... Why don't you just open the door, and do as I say?" There was a deep growl of protest, but that was all. "...if you are in there, why didn't you answer two minutes ago?" he said with increasing irritation.

Behind the door was an audible sigh as the door opened slowly, a security chain latching it to the wall. A very tired and not amused Emi glared at him with droopy eyes through the narrow space; their green hue was dull and distant.

"Why are you bothering me? Come to insult me further?"

"I've come to..._apologize_..." There was another word he never thought he'd be saying to an enemy. "For my behavior at the donut shop."

She scoffed and smiled derisively, her daggers ready to fly. "So you _have_ come to insult me..."

"_No_, I'm honestly apologizing," Alsiel said with surprising placidity, trying his hardest not to vomit or choke. It must have been convincing enough for the half-breed, because her angry face softened, a gentler frown taking the place of the sarcastic grin. _She's still being cautious_, he reasoned. "I should have had more respect for my adversary, no matter how..._infuriating_ the situation might get..."

Emi looked at the floor, then sideways at something out of Alsiel's sight. Before looking back at him, she closed the door, fumbled with the chain, and opened the entrance wide. "I suppose I should do what is expected of the Hero: be hospitable and let you in."

"Sure, as it's only the _least_ of what we've ever done for you," the blonde general grumbled haughtily as he took a step into the foyer. "Not like we haven't fed you or—"

"It's not like I haven't given you coupon books or saved your stupid ass from citizens suspecting you. Ever." Her eyes slimmed and the door began closing again, Alsiel wedged between it and the frame. "Should have known, the Devil's right hand man's no better than—"

"_OKAY, _ okay, I'm sorry!" he screamed, jumping out of the way before being sandwiched. And there he was, pleading, almost laying prostrate on the apartment hallway's floor. Rolling her eyes, the Hero didn't know whether to laugh or feel cool satisfaction at what was being done before her.

"Come in already. I just made tea."

Finally safe inside the apartment, Alsiel removed his shoes and placed them next to hers on the cool tile entry way. Instantly he liked it more than their "base". The smell upon entering wasn't an offensive emulsion of sweat and lingering stir fry oil. Instead it was fresh and floral, clean and crisp, something like lavender, water, and melon. He glanced at the kitchen on his right while following Emi; it was enormous compared to his own cramped quarters.

His jaw dropped. "This is a new apartment! When did you upgrade?"

She turned to face him. "And how would you know that, hmm?" she crooned softly, snake-like eyes analyzing him effortlessly. "When did you ever come to my old apartment to know any better? More importantly, how did you know where I lived?"

"Er...I...I didn't...but..."

"Spying. Look at the pot calling the kettle black!" she laughed, brushing the conversation off. "Whatever. But you're right, this is new. I got a raise! It's a few times better than my old one, and about 1,000 times better than your hovel. Oh, I'm sorry. _'Base_'."

Grimacing at her description, he couldn't help but agree. She actually had a living space, a separate kitchen, _and_ a bedroom. All for _her_. _Only_ for her. He had to share with two others, one who wasn't the cleanest, and another who wasn't clean _or_ helpful...

"Must have been quite the raise..."

"Hmm." She motioned for him to take a seat on a small contemporary couch and offered him the tea tray. She sat across from him in what looked like a designer dining room chair. "It's hot, so be careful."

Out of politeness, he poured her a cup first. And then for his own, purposefully missed the obvious target, sending a splash of brown liquid onto her ivory floor rug.

"Oops.."

"_Alsiel, you klutz!_" she bellowed. "That's a new rug, you know! How can you pour my cup perfectly, and then make a mess with your own? It's right in _front_ of you..." She ran to the kitchen for cleaning supplies, muttering curses the whole way.

Alsiel looked at his hand, and felt the familiar tinge of charge.

'_Minute, but notable...So I wasn't mistaken...I can indeed use this as a reliable source..._'

Confirming his hypothesis, he tucked away the conclusive evidence by returning his hands to his tea cup just as Emi returned. She blotted up the tea as best she could, fuming and spewing out some mantra about how the general was useless at his job, useless as a human being, useless as...he lost track of what he was being called. Finally, she returned to her seat.

"Do _not_ touch the spot. There's a spot cleaner that needs to sit for a few minutes... Now then. Why are you here?"

Alsiel sighed, "I already told you, didn't I? Apologizing. So, am I forgiven?"

"No. You aren't. After the scene you caused outside the donut shop..."

"Hmm, I wasn't the one _yelling_ at the end_,_" he informed with raised eyebrows. "Nor was I the one that set up such an...uncharacteristic meeting..." He paused and sat down his cup, his golden eyes boring into hers. The Hero, despite how much she tried hardening her disposition, squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. "What's your agenda?"

"There isn't one!" she squealed. "Why would I tell you anyway?!"

"There has to be one because heroes don't just want to date their enemies, as if there was no rivalry!"

"That's...that's not t-true..."

"Oh, yes it is."

Involuntarily, Alsiel had deepened his voice, threatening to return to his mother-tongue and that growling, demonic tone that Emi couldn't stand. She tensed. It boiled her blood, sparked nerves under her skin. It was like the voices that had wailed and growled and screeched as their owners destroyed her home, her father, her life. She never blamed the Church for taking her away; she knew it was her sacred duty. Fate wasn't fair, and it could be cruel, but at least her absence from the farm didn't mean the farm's absence from existence. But after the Devil had his way...

'_I hate that voice... How can I go through with this if he's just the same kind of demon that would tear apart an honest, innocent soul? Damn him. Damn him to...well...er..._

_'Damning him to hell isn't much of a punishment, considering..._'

She blinked, coming back to her senses.

"For the cause..."

"What?" Alsiel asked, confused.

"Er, be_cause_ I'm human...sometimes I forget about those grudges..." she mumbled sheepishly, putting on her most embarrassed expression. Was she blushing enough? Was she making the least amount of eye contact possible? Her hands: was she trying to focus on twisting and folding them obsessively? Didn't it look like a girl terribly harassed by romantic feelings? She desperatey wanted to just quit the charade and kill him. Acting wasn't her strongest skill, and her worry didn't add much to her present audition. "And well, humans have different feelings, don't they? Like, well...love and-"

"_NO!_ I don't have any!" the man shrieked, waving his hands around as if trying to swat gnats. "None! My mind rests wholly with the Devil, I mean, with my Lord Satan and all deeds demonic and hellish! You...you're giving in to being a human and you're _losing your celestiality_."

"My _what?! _That's not even a word!"

"_Yes it is_. You're becoming...completely _human_! Oh, sick. Oh, I'm completely disgusted...how could my adversary do this... I'm losing faith in you. Maou-sama needs to find a different enemy. You aren't even worthy!"

It was spiraling out of control. He wasn't buying it, and she had run out of energy for the time being. Her head throbbed, her job was the cause, and now _he_ was here making things considerably more miserable. She didn't even expect him to turn up, and here he was again, foiling her plot. _Fall back and regroup_, screamed a voice in her head, but something else said-waterworks.

"You're...you're crying," Alsiel said with a tinge of concern. Only a tinge, but it was there. He watched her sniff, face turn red, mouth turn taut as a clothesline. Emi's eyes were knives that never seemed to need resharpened, as they were dangerously pointed every time she turned a vehement glare his way. Even if they were flooded with tears.

"I'm not."

"Y-Yes. That's crying."

"What would _you_ know about it?!" she screamed, hacking on an unsuspected catch in her throat. "You're just some stupid unemotional demon! You idiot! I'm _not_ perfect! I _am_ half human! Even before I came here! It's what I always was! It's what I always _will_ be! So I have to enjoy its blessings and suffer its curses forever!"

"O-Okay, Emi, just...just calm down..." he whimpered, holding his hands up as she stood suddenly. She was menacing regardless of her petite frame. In hindsight, he'd realize he could have destroyed her right then and there with the energy she was giving him, but he forgot: he was now somewhat human as well, and that part of his brain backed itself into a corner and waited to get slapped.

With the camel's back broken, Emi's eyes widened-bloodshot and hot as coals-and stomped towards the general. "No, I'm _not_ calming down! You come to _my_ apartment—"

"Yes, but—!"

"—and insult me again—"

"No, Emi, wait!"

She raised her arm, fingers curled into a fiery fist, ready to land against that _stupid_ white-blonde head. "—and now I just want to kill _you_ more than Maou—"

"EMI, LET'S GO ON A DATE."

It stayed her hand, and that was good enough. Alsiel, eyes squeezed shut, slowly opened them one at a time and looked at her through his fingers. Truly, he would have been punished greatly for this if Maou had only seen him now... Curled in a fetal position. On the enemy's couch. Hands held up as a shield. In the enemy's territory. Eyes sealed tight in fear.

But all he was concerned about was how the girl in front of him would handle his proposal.

"You're just trying to save your hide," she spat, monotone and suddenly bored.

"N-No...I...I honestly came to apologize...by means of accepting your..._interest_ in me."

"_Accepting_ it?"

"Er...well, by going on a date. I guess I owe you that much," he half-choked.

'_FOR THE CAUSE!_' he recited inwardly, immediately chastising himself.

The red-head let her arm down slowly, only stopping to twirl a piece of hair around her index finger, looking to the side. "Hmph. Well, although you've come off as much more of an idiot than I first thought, I suppose I'll agree to that..._but what's your agenda now, huh? Why the sudden agreement?_"

"What are you talking about?! Why can't _you_ just agree?"

"I didn't think such an upstanding demon would give in to the wants and wills of such an insignificant little human _girl_!"

"Well...I...I'm just...new to all of this human stuff..." He paused.

'_How do I make this convincing...? Humans are so annoying!_'

He started again, "I suppose I just didn't know how to handle it. Being a human doesn't come natural to me, so when I have certain..._feelings_...I don't know what to say." He pulled his lips inward and sat there, staring at the floor for a time. "I'm sorry. I suppose you could say I freaked out..."

"Understatement. You were a jerk, causing a scene."

Swallowing the abuse, Alsiel managed a weak grin. "Okay...well, that was more difficult than I thought it would be, but..."

A loud snort shot through the room. "Wouldn't have had to be if you'd just cooperate."

'_Cooperating just nicely now..._' she thought with a smirk. '_Thank you for sinking into my plan, hell spawn... I knew your inclination to lustful infatuations would come in handy..._'

"Yeah." The mission was done, so now Alsiel was more than ready to leave. He stood. "So, do you have any ideas? For...a date, I mean?"

"I'll let you know. For now, just beat it. My head hurts."

"Gladly," he huffed, walking to the exit by himself. He hurried into his shoes and opened the door. "Well, I suppose I'll...talk to you later..."

"Oh, and...you're forgiven." She felt his eyes turn to her, but she didn't meet them. "For now."

Eyebrows arched, he actually smiled sincerely. As sincere as his want to leave, as ironic as it was.

* * *

Another week passed without any noteworthy events, save for Lucifer spilling soda all over his laptop keyboard. Well, so he thought.

"I did _not_ have that Coke there," the demon whined more enthusiastically than usual. "I swear, I picked it up and left it—"

"You left it there, Lucifer, so shut up and clean it." Alsiel gave him a pointed look and returned to his task of cooking, smiling knowingly.

'_Need to replenish that magic again..._'

It was becoming addicting, using magic for menial tasks and harassing his only company for most of the day. At first, he was conservative about it, keeping tabs on his supply and doing a routine 'inventory' each night. He'd mentally harvest a charge by focusing on an object, thinking about what he would like done to it or what he would like _it_ to do. And as the power became available, flourishing in his hand, manifesting itself as a dull glow hovering above his palm, he'd release, noting the speed at which it came and dissipated. The quicker it could be summoned and aborted, the higher the quantity of his reserves. But then he found it all too enticing to use what he had stored, knowing he could get more whenever he met up with Emi again. And that meant for slower summonings, and a more clumsy ability to stop his magicked demands.

His testing was all done in the privacy of the hallway outside their apartment. Until...

"We have a neighbor."

Both lesser demons looked at their superior with bewilderment, Alsiel's lasting longer than Lucifer's (who merely shrugged and went back to his video game system that he'd sent Maou and company to find a couple of days ago).

"A neighbor? In this dumpy building?" Alsiel asked, laying out the breakfast foods and dishes on the table before returning to the "kitchen".

Yawning, Maou nodded and took his place in front of a bowl. "It's that girl that tripped and fell down the stairs, I think." He jumped as Alsiel let out a small shriek.

"_Emilia?!"_

"N-No! I'd never allow that! I'd...do something to prevent her from _ever_ moving here. But no, it's not the Hero," the Devil continued, taken aback. "A different girl. Short. Dark haired. And wearing...strange clothing..."

The general turned back to the counter and released the breath he had been holding. '_Thank the Devil...talk about awkward!_'

"Well," Alsiel began, "I suppose we'll have to keep our voices down more than usual, with a tenant joining the complex. I wonder why anyone would want to live here. Other than poor people like us, of course..." He chuckled as he sat down and served his lord simple soup and whatever else he could conjure up from pickles, konnyaku, and eggs.

Maou was just opening his mouth to speak when the doorbell rang. Alsiel hoped with all his strength it wasn't Emi; he didn't feel like seeing her anytime soon, despite his desperation for power.

"Who would be coming here this early in the morning?" said Maou, eyeing the door with mild curiosity.

Alsiel shrugged as he sipped from his bowl nervously. "A bit early for newspaper salesmen…"

"_Greetings_!"

Though muffled, the formality boomed from just outside the door.

"'Greetings'?" the Devil muttered under his breath before the bell buzzed again and another '_Greetings!'_ was shouted. He stood up and walked to the door. "Coming!"

He pushed the door open to indeed find the girl who'd fallen down the stairs just last night, this time carrying a large cardboard box. She smiled broadly over the top of it.

"My apologies for disturbing you so early," she said. "I'm Kamazuki Suzuno. I just moved in next door the other day. I was rude when we first met last night and undoubtedly inconvenienced you, so I'd like to apologize and show my gratitude." Then she bowed.

"G-Gratitude?" Maou repeated, confused. "Er…yeah. Nice to meet you, I'm Maou Sadao."

The girl held out the box towards him. "Here's a little something as my greeting and thanks. It's not much, but I've heard noodles are one of the best gifts to give when you move somewhere."

"Thank you…_very much_!" He grunted and almost dropped the box as he took it from her, it was so heavy.

'_How was she carrying that so easily?!_'

"Are you okay, my lord?" Alsiel walked up behind the Devil, hearing the loud thud as the box was unceremoniously half-dumped onto the ground.

"Tch…what? Yes, I'm fine…." His pride was a bit tattered, but not enough to need his general's help for something as petty as a box of…lead noodles.

"Oh, hmm, let me help you anyway." Alsiel looked at the visitor as he pulled the box inside the house; he was not expecting the oddly dressed girl. "I'm Ashiya. Maou and I are good friends."

"Oh yes, I've heard of you," she said, causing the general to raise an eyebrow. "The landlord said in her letter that I should rely on you if I ever need help. I haven't seen her yet, but…" She reached within her sash and pulled out a postcard from the infamous landlord, the same mailing that the two demons had received—and unwillingly witnessed. "The letter contained a photograph—"

"_AH_!" Maou screeched and Alsiel rushed forward and pushed the postcard back towards the girl. "We….don't need proof, yes, that's the landlord, I'm sure of it…we….got the same postcard…."

"Right…" Suzuno whispered, looking at both of them with a puzzled grimace. "Well, I'm glad you are my neighbors, and I'd be much obliged if you deigned to guide me in the ways of the apartment."

"'Ways of the apartment!" chortled Lucifer, snickering. Suzuno looked beyond the entrance and towards the seated young man in front of a laptop.

"Is someone else there?" she asked.

Alsiel rolled his eyes and grumbled. "Yes—"

Without turning, Lucifer introduced himself with a quick wave and mumbled, "I'm Urushihara. Nice to meet you."

"—and he's a bum."

"HEY!" Lucifer bellowed, standing up indignantly. "I'm not doing this because I want to! Geez!"

"Then why are you sitting in front of the computer…again?"

"I…..I just…."

Satisfied with making Lucifer squirm, the general grinned. "See? A bum."

Suzuno stepped back from the door without expression, ignoring the '_bum_' and his whining. "Well then. I shall take my leave. Please take care of me if I should need your assistance."

Struggling through her archaic manner of speaking, Maou waved and smiled. "Er….same."

Then he shut the door.

"What was _that_ about?"Alsiel wondered aloud, starting to open the noodle box.

"I…guess she's really just a foreigner within her own country. Odd, but…not my business." And without further distractions, Maou scarfed down the rest of his breakfast and hurried off to work.

* * *

No magic meant no torturing Lucifer. It also meant not being any closer to returning to Ente Isla (which was absolutely the more important goal, albeit not as instantly gratifying). Gathering magic once a week from one simple girl's sorrows wasn't going to be sufficient enough to get a portal open, so Alsiel took to brainstorming for excuses in order to spend more time with Emi. It was the strangest feeling, the one he was now experiencing: a mix of guilt (for lying to his superior to fraternize with the enemy) and pride (all in order to secure a means to return to their homeland).

And the best way to think was to engage in one of his favorite pastimes: shopping for groceries.

"Maybe I can just organize a weekly get-together with her and I'll tell Lucifer and Maou that I'm shopping," he muttered to boxes of pancake mix and all-purpose flour. They only glared back with nutrition labels. "Maou's at work in the evening now, and Lucifer's too busy with…doing nothing, no one will suspect any different. But once a week isn't nearly enough…" Grabbing boxes of flour and corn starch, he moved on to vegetables. "I could just say I'm going to the library. No suspicion there either. That's twice a week."

Nervously he navigated through the aisles, as if people could follow his thoughts as easily as following _him_. He finished up with cabbage and a kabocha and then smile haughtily.

"Doesn't matter anyway, Maou's busy with his job, Lucifer doesn't pay attention. I can go where I need to without anyone wondering." And with that last thought, he decided he'd pay Emi as many visits as she would allow. He only hoped he could put up with whatever dating antics she had in mind. Although he was a demon and had no qualms about feeding off of her like a parasite, even _he_ had his limits when it came to rendezvousing with a foe, and it didn't help when he had to handle her sarcasm and blatant jabs at his personality.

The general let the clerk tally his total without giving her a glance. He fished in his pocket for the odd change needed, and only when handing it over did he look at her face. Navy orbs framed by silver rectangles. He cocked his head slightly and arched his eyebrows, and then wasn't entirely sure what to attribute his curiosity to: the fact he didn't readily recognize her eyes as supernatural, or the fact their demonic aura was here in a quaint corner grocery. Perhaps he just took the aura to be natural to him; after all, he _was_ a demon, so a familiar trait like that wouldn't be something worth noting. However, in _this_ place…it was very unexpected. Did no one else notice the atmosphere she gave off, that otherworldly sort of air?

Not bothering to brush his bangs out of his eyes, Alsiel reached out for the change while scrutinizing the woman carefully yet subtly. She seemed familiar, like he knew her, but had forgotten due to time apart. Dark loose curls, her height a whole head shorter than his, and rounded shoulders, rounded face, rounded…everything. There was nothing angular or rough about her, taking advantage of all the curvaceous, soft possibilities a female could have been given. Before he could notice anymore, she'd given him a receipt, smiled, and thanked him for shopping.

He hoped he wasn't obvious, and started worrying he would come across as a lecher when it was all honest curiosity. He blinked, stammered something inaudible, and left.

"She didn't seem to notice anything familiar about me, but I know she was a demon," he confided to himself, carrying his spoils home. He rattled his brain to remember who she reminded him of, but thought of nothing. As soon as Maou came home, he would bring it up; it was dangerous, having other demons running amuck in this place.

Turning inward to his own thoughts, he almost didn't notice the person walking toward him, rummaging through her purse frantically. He hadn't even made it a block from the store before running into his magic cache. "Oh, er…didn't think I'd see you here...Emi."

Emi snapped to attention, almost not realizing she'd been addressed by the man. "Huh? Oh, it's…it's just you."

"Who'd you think it'd be? No one else would bother stopping _you,_" he snarled, frowning. "You haven't contacted me."

"Yeah, well….I've been a bit busy," she mumbled sheepishly, her face reddening. "Erm…since you're already out, we could…go somewhere now. I'm on my way to the grocery store."

"I already have my groceries. Why would I want to go back?"

"Well, that's all I've got, so come shop with me."

Grinding his teeth and cursing his luck, Alsiel tried to put himself into 'harvest mode' and began preparing to harness some magic. He followed her back to the store when he only wanted to go home and relax, but…

'_I suppose it's my job, in the end…Now. How to piss her off effectively..._'

Emi led him through a small mob of customers and bee-lined to the fruit cases. She was standing in front of a few apple varieties when he caught up with her.

"Hmmm…imports!" She clapped her hands and turned towards her unwilling partner. "I wonder if these are any good."

"Apples are gross," Alsiel grumbled.

"Well, _you_ aren't eating them; _I_ am." Her eyes roved the colored spheres until reaching persimmons and then melons. "How about bananas? A bit pricey, but…"

"You're going to become poor."

"Melon?"

"Poorer still."

Rolling her eyes and gritting her teeth, the Hero balled her fists and turned on him. "_So maybe I'll just eat rice and furikake and call it a night?!_"

"Hmm, you might." All he did was shrug and give a tight-lipped smile.

'_Thanks for the power boost, brat,_' he laughed inwardly, amused at her petulant grunting.

Emi waved him off and grabbed a few apples before stomping to veggies. She didn't bother asking for Alsiel's input and merely grabbed carrots and a bag of potatoes.

"You know what they say about girls that eat potatoes …" The look the red-head gave him was satisfying beyond measure; he merely smirked as a retort.

"What?"

He shrugged, shifting his own groceries to his other arm. "Well, you'll never bloom to be a beautiful butterfly. Always will be that hairless caterpillar: ugly, unloved. Mostly ugly."

"_NO ONE SAYS THAT_," she seethed. "You just made that up!"

(Author's Note: a hopeless attempt to play on words. A Japanese word for potato is "_imo_"; same word is in the word for a type of caterpillar, "_**imo**__mushi_")

"Nope. It's true. You'll just be a caterpillar forever."

'_Almost to half capacity! She's really angry today!_'

The girl looked to the bag in her hands, up at Alsiel, then back at the vegetable stand. With a loud _fwump_, the potatoes were returned with their friends and Emi stormed off, officially peeved.

"I'm done here," she called behind, her tone changed. It sounded tired and sad instead of furious, as Alsiel had anticipated. Given the amount of power he'd attained, he half-expected her to turn and slug him.

"Aren't you going to get your potatoes?"

"_Not now_. I don't feel like shopping anymore. And don't you have something to be cooking? It's already dinner time."

She didn't wait for him to gasp in realization and was already at the counter, paying for her items. Despite his nature, he felt something akin to shame. It was _incredibly_ foreign. But…

'_I suppose I shouldn't push her too far, or this game will end before I can win…_'

Emi already paid and left without a goodbye when Alsiel made it to the register with the same bag of potatoes she'd thrown down earlier. He'd completely forgotten about the strange clerk in his 'battle' with his adversary, but it was she again who asked for payment.

"250 yen, sale price," came the deep yet quiet voice, as soft as silk but as treacherous as a spider's web.

Trying to balance his bag with his wallet, Alsiel dropped a handful of coins on the floor, each one tinkling on the tile, a few rolling out of sight. He cursed in his mother tongue naturally, forgetting who he was in the presence of. People would usually ignore his 'foreign slang', as he'd overheard a few Japanese call it before, but now that it was someone like _him_ standing there...

"Er, I'm sorry…" he murmured while stooping to retrieve his change, fumbling beneath the dusty and cobwebby lip at the bottom of the stand. He'd have to let his lost coins go for now.

He stood upright to find himself faced with a look of fascination, sadness, and shock. It was an odd expression, the one the demon-woman now wore. She covered her mouth and merely stared at him with those dark, enchanting eyes. Even he had to admit, they were dangerously alluring.

And then he remembered. In a heart-gripping instant, he recalled where he'd seen this woman, this _succubus _before.

He lost his voice, words failing him, but she spoke up quietly from behind her nimble fingers.

"Al...Alsiel?"

* * *

**END. Review, silly gooses.**


End file.
